


In Another Life

by scarfy36



Category: White Collar
Genre: F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-14
Updated: 2018-01-14
Packaged: 2019-03-04 17:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13369533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarfy36/pseuds/scarfy36
Summary: “I understand that you’re angry–”“Who wouldn’t be angry? You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!”(or: Neal gets lonely living in Paris and pays a visit to Sara in London.)





	In Another Life

**Author's Note:**

> I saw the sentence prompt: "who wouldn't be angry, you ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!" and knew I had to turn it into a Neal x Sara conversation.   
> Originally written about two years ago, I only just remembered that I never posted it.

Neal didn’t know what to expect when he decided to make contact with Sara. With Peter it was easy, he just had to leave a trail of clues and Peter could work it out for himself. But it was different with Sara, she wasn’t around when he died. Going to London was risky, he knew, but after three years of living happily ever after in Paris he was starting to get bored. He missed his life in New York. He missed the family he had created for himself. He knew there was no way he could ever go back, but there was a chance that with Sara he could be happy enough.

Finding her the address of her apartment building was simple, and setting up surveillance at the café down the street was practically child’s play. He watched her for weeks, seeing when she came and went, following her occasionally from a distance. When she had guests he noted who they were and how long they stayed. Sara went jogging before work every morning, and it was during this time that Neal began to scope out her security system – key and passcode entry to the building, another key and passcode to the apartment and motion sensors inside with bulletproof glass and heavy duty locks on all of the windows.

After a month of recon, he felt ready to make contact with Sara.

He watched her leave for her run and then carried out the carefully orchestrated plan he had devised to break into her apartment. Once he was inside and the motion sensors were disabled there was nothing to do but wait for her to return and practice the speech he had prepared.

Sara’s apartment was small, as all inner city flats are, but it was nice. The furniture in the living room was modern and in the kitchen the appliances looked expensive. Clearly she was doing well in London.

She had left a box of cereal on the kitchen table and a bowl and spoon drying by the sink. Neal checked his watch and poured himself a bowl – one should never come back from the dead on an empty stomach.

Neal couldn’t help but grimace at the contents of Sara’s fridge. Besides the milk he had been searching for, there were several bottles of wine, a carton of eggs, a container of yoghurt and a single sweet potato. If she didn’t murder him for faking his death, he would be sure to scold her for her poor eating habits.

He was down to the last soggy dregs in the bowl when he heard the sound of keys in the door. He placed the bowl on the table as quietly as he could and stood up – scraping the chair on the floor as he did so.

“Hello?” Sara’s voice was cautious, but god Neal had missed that sound. “Who’s there?”

Neal heard a drawer open in the entryway. “I’m armed, who’s there?”

“Sara, it’s me,” Neal quickly made himself known, recalling not-so-fondly the first time he had broken into her house, many years ago. “It’s Neal.”

Neal saw Sara freeze in shock as she entered her kitchen, seeing the man she thought was dead standing in her kitchen. She raised a hand to cover her mouth and the baton she was holding fell to the floor.

“Neal?” her voice shook.

“Sara, I can expl–” He wasn’t expecting her to slap him, but he wasn’t all that surprised either.

“You died,” she said, her eyes welling up as she processed what was in front of her, her hand lingering on his face for a moment. “Dammit, Caffrey, Peter said you died. He saw the body – he saw your body in the morgue.”

“It was my only option,” he said. “Give me time and I can explain. It was the only way I could ever be free from the Pink Panthers, and from the FBI.”

“There’s always another option,” she shook her head.

“Not this time.”

Sara sat down at the table, resting her head in her hands for a moment before locking eyes with Neal. “You died,” she repeated. “I grieved. It took time, but I moved on with my life.” She looked down at the table and saw the empty bowl. “You ate my cereal?”

“I’m sorry, Sara.”

“For eating my cereal?” she asked, her signature snark returning. “Or for making me think for _three years_ that you were dead? Or for breaking into my apartment? At least this time you’re not armed – are you?”

“You know I don’t like guns,” he assured her, raising his hands to show they were empty. “I understand that you’re angry–”

“Who wouldn’t be angry? You ate all of my cereal and faked your death for three years!”

“Please give me time to explain,” he insisted. “After that, I’ll leave. You’ll never have to see me again if that’s what you want.”

She considered his words for a moment. “Fine,” she said. “Sit here while I call work, I need to take a personal day.”

“Thank you, Sara.”

“I said I’d hear you out, I’m not guaranteeing anything more than that.”

Sara made the call from the living room, watching him while she was speaking, as though he would disappear if she looked away. When she returned it was time for Neal to explain everything.

He told Sara about everything that had happened since she left New York, briefly mentioning Rebecca before moving on to the Pink Panthers and explaining that the FBI would never let him be free as long as he was asset to them.

Sara remained silent while he spoke, her face guarded. When he finished, she asked, “does Peter know you’re alive, and Mozzie?”

“I left them clues, but I don’t know if they figured them out.”

“Why are you here, Neal? You successfully disappeared for three years, so why make yourself known now? And why to me?”

“I needed to see a familiar face,” he answered with a shrug, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I got lonely.”

“You could have anyone you wanted, I doubt your life was lonely,” she scoffed.

“Sure I dated people in Paris,” Neal said, making Sara roll her eyes. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. Before, I always had someone who knew me – first Mozzie, then Kate and even Peter. But now every relationship I try to build is based on a lie. Neal Caffrey died that day three years ago and I said goodbye to that part of my life. I guess I just didn’t know what I was really signing up for. Being here with you, I can try to balance the old life with the new me, if only for a short time.”

“I don’t know what to say, Neal,” she said, her voice giving away the tears she was trying to hold back. “I just can’t believe you’re really here.”

Neal hesitated for moment before sitting down beside Sara at the table, taking one of her hands into his own. “I’m here, this is real.”

She looked at their hands for moment, processing the feeling of their skin touching. Neal was surprised when she leaned up and kissed him, gently at first, just a press of lips against his.

“You’re not dead,” she murmured against his mouth.

“I’m alive,” he replied, guiding her hand up his chest so she could feel his heartbeat.

She kissed him again, more heatedly this time. The hand on his chest began unbuttoning his shirt and he placed his hand over hers to stop her.

“Are you sure you want this?” he asked. “I get there’s a lot of emotions running through your head right now, but maybe we should wait.”

Sara nodded, leaning back from him and taking a few deep breaths.

“I can go, if you want,” Neal offered.

“No,” she said quickly. “I mean,” she smiled, “please stay, if you want to.”

“I’ll stay,” he smiled back. “Go take a shower and I’ll make you breakfast.” She looked down and realised she was still in her running clothes. “Though there isn’t much I can make based on what I saw in your fridge.”

She shook her head at him, smiling. “You’ll think of something.”

***

When she returned, Neal had managed to find some bread in the freezer and cooked the eggs the best he could in Sara’s ill-stocked kitchen.

“If you want me to stick around, you’re going to need to do some grocery shopping,” he said, placing a plate on the table.

Sara sat down and began to eat, still watching Neal closely. “I didn’t know if you’d still be here,” she admitted.

“I’m staying as long as you’ll let me,” he assured her. “I can never go back to America, and especially not New York, but you’re the closest thing I can get to home. I missed you, and I trust you not to turn me in.”

“I won’t,” she promised. “But Neal, I'm seeing someone.” She put her cutlery down but didn’t look at him as she spoke. “After... After you died I had this client. We flirted while he was working with us, and then he took me out for drinks to thank us for recovering his piece. Things just went from there. It was the first time I had felt truly happy since Peter told me you died. Which was a dick move by the way, faking your death is just cruel, Neal."

“I think you hitting me conveyed that pretty well,” he agreed.

“I’m not sorry about that. What I mean is, I have a new life here,” she explained. “I made my peace with what happened and I moved on. You can’t just waltz in here after three years, eat my cereal and expect things to go back the good old days. I’m going to need to adjust to having you around.”

“I understand that,” Neal nodded solemnly.  “I don’t have to stay here, I’ve got a place nearby, but I’d still like to see you while I’m here.”

“Okay,” she nodded, resuming eating her breakfast. “How’s your life been, Caffrey?”

***

“Sara?” There was a knock at the door and Sara froze in shock. “It’s me, are you ready?

“Who is it?” Neal asked in a whisper.

“It’s Josh – the guy I’ve been seeing,” she hissed back, frantically trying to find her clothes. “We have a date tonight, I completely forgot!”

“Where’s he taking you, would I approve?” Neal smirked.

“Shut up and find your clothes.” Sara had pulled on her skirt and started to button up her shirt. “You better be wearing something when I get back.”

Fastening the last buttons on her shirt she left Neal in the bedroom and answered the door.

“Josh, hey,” she said, plastering a smile onto her face. 

“Sara,” he smiled back. “You look,” he glanced down at her bare feet, “a little underdressed. Am I early?”

“No, you’re right on time.” She listened for sounds of movement from the bedroom and lead Josh into the kitchen. “I’ve actually had a bit of a crazy day, I had an old friend surprise me with a visit and I lost track of time.” Sara made a point of avoiding lying where she could. “Is there any chance we could reschedule tonight? I’m not really in the mood for going out.”

“Of course,” Josh agreed. “Or we could just stay in? Order takeout and a movie?”

“Oh, um, actually, he’s – my friend is still here,” Sara said, careful not to give anything away.

“Okay,” Josh nodded, realising he was being rejected. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

“Yes, that sounds great,” Sara said, leading Josh back to the door. “I’m so sorry about all of this, I had no idea he was going to show up and it just caught me by surprise. I promise I’ll make up for it next time.”

“That’s totally fine,” he said, leaning against the doorjamb as Sara tried to restrain herself from shutting it on him. She liked Josh, but her time with Neal was limited. “I’ll see you soon.” He surprised her with a goodbye kiss and left, letting her finally close the door and return to Neal.

When she got back to her bedroom Neal was still in her bed, but he seemed to have put at least some of his clothes back on.

“Josh left so soon?” he asked. “You should have introduced us. I bet he’d love to meet me, the ex-con ex-boyfriend, coming from your bedroom half-naked…”

“You don’t count, you’re dead,” she snapped. Neal raised his eyebrows at her tone. “You know what I mean, you’ll leave again in a few days and I won’t see you again. You’re a ghost, Neal. It doesn’t count.”

“What if I could stay?” His tone was light but Sara could tell had been waiting to ask this question.

“In London?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning forward in his enthusiasm. “It’s big city, no one’s going to recognise me and I have no reason to stay in Paris. Death has its perks, the world is my oyster. And if you want me around, London can be my pearl.”

"I'd like that."


End file.
